Today, 3 is not my favorite number

Today marks the third year from my Mother's passing. Three is normally my favorite number; but not today. Today 3 rises as a dark suffocating wave trying to bury me. I can't handle the time that is passing. I miss my Mom. I miss having her craziness and generosity sprinkle through my life. Last night, I cried myself asleep. I didn't want today to come. But it did. And I'm here. Without her.

Last night I slept in her old shirt and I wore it again today to work because I didn't want to take it off. It's faded, it's old, and even though it's not possible I sometimes think it smells like her closet. A closet that I used to love opening and feeling the soft material of faded and well used clothes. The smell carried powdery lotion, soft wood, fresh soap, and somehow memories.

My Mom's clothes were always used and abused. She had moccasins that were missing beads on the top. Dresses that never fit her shoulders. Pants that always had thread strings hanging off a seam. Her shirts were overly soft from use. The colors changed through time into muted blends. There were patches ironed onto thinning fabrics. Safety pins holding buttons in place. Tags that no longer held script because of wear. Lace with extra eyelets that were uneven with the pattern.

My mom never really cared about having new and up to date clothing. She always sacrificed for things she loved more; her family, her fun, and food.

Growing up I was always entertained with the newest board game or movie. I have many memories of going shopping with my Mom and buying ridiculous things that would entertain us for the weekend. We went out to eat with relish; we dined out almost as much as we dined in. She would buy trinkets for the grand kids. She lent/gave money to those who needed it. She bought gifts for the entire neighborhood during the holidays. She gave us updated summer and winter wardrobes every year.

My mom was a giver. Whether it be Easter eggs to every widow and spinster in the neighborhood or advise to a child unwilling to listen.

She gave everything. No one was left wanting when they were in company of my Mother. Today as I wear a raggedy faded t-shirt, I remember her generosity. I remember her need to help others. I remember her willingness to serve.

She didn’t just give me the shirt off her back, she gave me life. I wish I could share it with her.

Incredibly LOST.

I’m a big fan of the television show LOST. I also like to wait for my TV shows to come out on DVD before I watch them. This normally makes me a season or two behind on what is currently being aired. So, luckily, if you are watching LOST on TV this post contains no spoilers. If you don’t watch LOST but would like to in the future, don’t keep reading, because heavy spoiling and whining will ensue. (Right now I’m on season 4 of LOST.)

How I love the two men in the pic above my post. Sayid. Desmond. Mmm. I don’t know what it is about these actors, but they make me love them. I think it is also obvious that they probably shouldn't; they’re sweaty, hairy, crazy, and their characters keep getting weirder!!

Is anyone keeping up with the plot? I need a LOST for dummies book. Every episode brings up 10 more questions for me that seem to never get answered.

What is the black mist? Why was there a comic book with a polar bear and Walt? Who is Jacob? Why is time travel becoming part of the show? Why did they have to kill off Charlie and is the owner of the “rescue” boat a bad guy? Why does Kate have Aaron? Why does Jack want to go back to the Island? What is happening to poor Desmond? Who does Locke think he is? Why is everyone clean shaven? Why is no one killing Ben? Why can't I kill Ben?

Is anyone else having this love/hate relationship? Why do I keep watching this show??

I’ll tell you why; geek is in my soul and anything that is weird or insane seems to sing to me. “Watch me”, the crazy weird show lures…and I listen.

MAIL

Does anyone...

still write hand written letters?

keep wedding invites, because one day down the road you might use that same color scheme?

collect boxes and bags and laundry baskets full of paper bills because you pay online but your too scared to stop the paper trail?

tear up bills and stick small pieces of the letter into different trash bins so you might confuse an identity thief - you know just in case?

keep letters from friends that they don't even talk to anymore or even really like for the matter?

have a secret box to hold all of your most precious letters?

keep Christmas cards from the people you love and never look at them again?

stash invites from miscellaneous get togethers because you like to collect them?

write thank you letters and never send them?

have letters sent to more than one address because you haven't updated your current residence in quite a while?

remember when you were a kid and getting a piece of mail made you feel incredible?

write letters in rough drafts and never send them?

open a letter from the side instead of the top?

wish that someone from your past would contact you?

write more rough drafts and throw them away?

place stamps upside down? (It means "I love you.")

pray that you write the recipients address correctly and beautifully so you don't have to open the envelope and start over?

wish that you could get letters from heaven; just like on Saturday's Warriors?

want an address book but never updates it and doesn't know how to start collecting addresses?

Me too.

Job opening

Hello all,

I just wanted to let you know that FedEx at my call center is hiring. It's a good job and we rarely hire. If you know anyone that is looking let them know!!

They have to apply online at Fedex.com (careers)

Feel free to ask me questions if you have any.

Thanks!!
Sariah

Sariah in Wonderland

I love Alice in Wonderland!!

I remember when I was a little girl twirling in front of the tv while the roses sang and the tulips swayed in harmony. I giggled as the Mad Hatter got overly excited about some one's un-birthday. I felt the stress as the white rabbit CONSTANTLY kept pushing Alice through time. I watched in wonder when the Caterpillar blew out puffs of letters. My head bobbled from side to side while the cards waddled and danced while painting the roses red. I was scared for the little oysters that were to become the Walrus' dinner. I stretched my smile as the Cheshire cat teased Alice through the hard times. I wanted to fast forward the stupidity of Tweetle-dee and tweetle-dumb as they made honking noises - Man, I hated those idiots.

Thirteen years later the story picks up in Tim Burton's rendition of Alice in Wonderland. The critics did not seem to like it. I heard how the scenery was too loud and the that actors couldn't keep up. (I snort in the direction of this statement. Nothing out does Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter.)I heard that this movie was an insult to Mr. Lewis Carroll; in the fact that it did not relate to his novels besides the characters. I also heard that the 3D was bad because it didn't invite the audience into the movie. To these educated and honorable movie critics I have one Question. Did you even watch the movie.



It was wonderful. It was a perfect movie that has beautiful scenes, amazing actors, a great screen play, fabulous CGI, and I have to mention the thing that keep my complete interest and stirred loving feelings in me that I have never dreamed I would feel...the clothing. Every piece of fabric was perfect. All of the pearls, scarves, beading, silks, and cords were perfectly placed. Every article of clothing was a perfect example of my dream wardrobe. If I could dress that way, every day and not be thought a lunatic, I would.

Tim Burton is a mastermind.

I'm sure that everyone has been asked the question "If you could have dinner with anyone dead or alive, who would it be?", well my answer is simple. It would be Mr. Burton. I'd want him to pick out the entire table scheme, the atmosphere, the music, the food, and even my outfit. I absolutely love him and his amazing talented wife. (I guess she could come for dinner too. :)

Please go and see this movie. It is essential for a creative mind to see.